Last month I was feeling a little down and impulsively booked a trip with my grown son for a week in Mexico. Running off is one of my favorite ways of coping with the devastation of the break-up of my relationship of 27 years.

Max was on summer break from San Diego State and wasn’t booked for a home game at his job making Kettle Corn at Petco Park for a week. He is the one adult in my immediate family who was available and actually wanted to spend time with me, just me.

We’d settled into our casita in the little fishing village of Sayulita, Nayarit near Puerto Vallarta and were enjoying playing board games, eating street tacos, buying local crafts and surfing.

One afternoon, after spending the morning exploring the jungle paths for remote surf spots, Max came home from a swim at the beach to find me in tears. I told him I missed his other Mom and he gave me a hug and said: “I know how hard this must be, I guess you just have to let it out”.

How on earth did he get so wise? I was relieved he didn’t try to cheer me up or talk me out of my feelings. If I thought I felt proud when I heard him tell another young man out in the water that the woman who just caught a big wave was his Mother… it doesn’t compare to this.

I never know what blessings in life will get thrown at me and on the flip side I never know when the grief and loss will overwhelm me either. I’m just grateful to have raised a boy that gets it. I know we were on the right track when my partner and I attended that Lesbians Considering Parenthood workshop all those years ago. We were the first of all our friends to go for it and we were so enamored with our son that we had another boy six years later. It’s been a wild ride, exhausting and fulfilling and everything in between.

When it’s all said and done, I have no regrets. We need more men in the world like my boys, and I am incredibly thankful for the blessing of having them in my life.